Chapter 1

“All right, we'll figure this out, Nastia. Don't worry. The important thing is, I know now. And don't pay any attention to my Staska. I spoiled him; I turned him into a spoiled rich kid all by myself. He grew up as an only child, without a father or grandmothers. I have a job—I barely have time to lift my head. He always had everything: nannies, private preschools and tutors, sports schools. I restored the balance with a belt. But when I gave the little parasite a swat on the butt, he was good as gold! He'd toe the line! And now I see he's forgotten how to talk to his mother. At least he does well in school, thank God—not like I did back then. Next year we're planning to have him apply to a technical university. We'll finally make a man of Staska. That was my life, girl: vocational school, the market, fried hand pies. Then the first kiosk, the second, the third… A food stand, the first café. I'll be honest: it wasn't easy. The nineties, crime running wild, and I was alone, without a husband, with a child to take care of. Sometimes I can't believe what I had to survive. I had to fight hand-to-hand to defend what was mine, and face down gangsters. But now I own a bread factory, the first in the region. A well-known bakery chain. I'm building another plant in the neighboring region now. And, of course, I have a few other things tucked away. So if you ever need anything, Nastia, don't be shy—tell your father, and I'll give you the money. It's just that I don't have the time, you understand? By evening, sometimes I can't even remember my own name, let alone give my family any attention.”

“Yes.”

“And there's something else I want to say going forward. I know I'm rough around the edges. I know that's one of my faults. I've never had to deal with girls. So don't take it personally if I hurt you with a careless word. I don't mean to. Okay?”

I looked at a woman I'd never known before that day, sitting before me with her back straight and a frank, almost masculine look in her eyes. And I was drawn to her the way all living things are drawn to warmth. Without even realizing it, I smiled at her for the first time.

“No, I won't be offended. You're a good person!” The words slipped from my lips on their own, and there was no taking them back. Not that I wanted to.

She smiled too—shy and cautious, as if trying on a smile. She rose from the chair and came closer.

“If Staska starts picking on you, tell me,” she warned firmly. “He's actually a decent guy, but he can get a little too big for his britches. Deal?”

I'd been sitting there coughing for a while, and could only nod in response. I'd seen a doctor that day, but my stepmother still laid a hand on my forehead.

“No, this won't do. You'll be running a fever by morning. Come on, don't be shy—take off those wet tights and get into a hot bath. Then straight to bed! And don't worry, my son isn't allowed in here tonight. Tomorrow morning, we'll figure out what to do.”